It's the simple things, sometimes, that make you scream or laugh or shake your head in awe and then keep screaming until they come and give you a nice, soothing shot. One small part of your day, one small effort that changes the trajectory of how things go. It's amazing how a little effort, a little event, can sometimes lead to major ramifications. To wit:
*** Finding a pubic hair in the cookbook you checked out in the library. Why is it there? Who is reading a library's copy of a cookbook in a situation where pubic hair would find its way on the page? Is there enough hand sanitizer in the world to use after realizing I had touched a book that a pervy possibly disease laden person had touched? These are the questions that make me cry, like in a fever dream. And it simply reinforces my disinterest in using the library. Come on, people. Stop being so fucking disgusting.
*** Feeling good about yourself for getting up and going to the harder water aerobics class even though it's 1,000 degrees outside and you're tired. Sometimes it just feels good to make that little extra effort to take care of yourself. It puts a bit of pep in your step and makes you feel like a champion. You can work harder, you can make better food choices. All from the one simple step of choosing to make your health a priority. You're can do anything. Except remember to put on deoderant, so that you spend the rest of the day wondering what the hell that smell is before finally realizing, at 7:00pm, that that smell? Is you.
*** Introducing a friend to the wonder that is It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. A simple thing like having your treasure made known to the world gives you such a good feeling inside, like you are sharing a secret gift that only the truly blessed can receive. I am stunned when people don't know about this show - and I say this will all the indignant fervor of someone who started watching it about 2 or 3 months ago, even though it actually started in 2005. Still, it's such a great feeling of sharing, like when you had circle time in kindergarten and everyone's attention had to be ON YOU while you held up your treasure and explained, in numbing detail, how you found that shell at the beach after you were digging a moat around the sandcastle you and your cousins made and how your cousin wanted it, but you knew that it was meant to be yours and how you brought it home and put it on your windowsill to remind you of the beach, and then how you had to move it because your stupid brother kept taking it and putting it in his mouth.
What the hell was I talking about? It's been a long day.
Seriously, sometimes the best simple thing I can do is just go to bed.